


the dance

by neinley



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Divorce, Fix-It, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post Season 8, Slow Burn, Spoilers for Season 8, this is a 'everyone deserved better and we work through our shit' fic, this is not a 'hate on Curtis' fic however
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-19 19:18:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neinley/pseuds/neinley
Summary: The course of true love never did run smooth.





	1. holding you (i held everything)

**Author's Note:**

> _yes, my life is better left to chance_   
>  _i could have missed the pain_   
>  _but i'd have had to miss the dance_
> 
> \- the dance, garth brooks

Shiro gets married on a Thursday. Taian, or a lucky day, is Keith's understanding of why they chose it - a blessing on their marriage and the years of it to come, a little extra good luck to usher the couple into the rest of their lives. It's an old custom, out of practice for long enough that it proves someone had to really know their history to include it on the wedding invitations. He's never been particularly superstitious himself, but he can appreciate the sentiment of it, and he approves of the nod to Shiro's culture; Curtis is considerate like that, knows his husband well, it seems. It's a good ceremony, not too flashy and not too plain, either.

It's the first wedding Keith has ever been to, and while he's never given much thought to exactly what a nice wedding would look like, this one suits Shiro. Everyone important to him is there (and he'd made sure to be able to be there, too, come hell or high water - there wasn't a power in the universe, known or not, that could have kept him from his best friend's wedding) and it's all about commitment, love, and settling down. Shiro deserves that.

Keith says so, too, when he's giving his speech as Shiro's best man. He raises his glass and tells the people there all about how he first met Shiro, about the unwavering faith and support he's been in Keith's life, even when he wasn't able to be there. He makes them laugh with a few stories, but keeps a few of them to himself, too, private and treasured. There are little pieces of Shiro that he feels like he can be selfish enough to keep, like the sunsets after riding their hover bikes and long, quiet talks in front of the stars. Everyone here knows Shiro well enough that they already know what kind of man he is, anyway, and why he deserves this so much; he's just preaching to a choir of like-minded souls, their faces turned toward his with smiles, so he keeps his speech brief.

He tells Curtis that he's the luckiest man alive, marrying Keith's best friend, and Curtis lifts his glass to toast the sentiment. It makes Keith smile, and then they all drink, Shiro's warm gaze on his from across the grass. 

When the dancing starts up, Keith throws himself into a chair beside Lance and stretches his legs out beneath the table. His hair is long enough now that he can braid it, barely, but pieces are falling out and wisping around his face, so it looks like he's already taken a few turns on the floor when he hasn't set foot out there. Shiro and Curtis' first dance was to a song he doesn't know, but it was nice enough, and he pretended that he couldn't see Lance tearing up beside him until the music changed and he took Pidge out for a spin. Keith is content to just watch, his hands laced over his stomach and a drink untouched in front of him, as his friends and his family celebrate.

He's celebrating too, of course - quieter, but that's his way - but something about the half-smile on his face has people keeping their distance. It isn't until Shiro himself drags a chair over and sits beside him, flush-faced and waiting, that Keith rolls his head and tears his eyes away from the dance floor.

"Hey," he says, mouth quirking into a smile.

"Hey yourself," Shiro returns, arching an amused eyebrow at Keith's lazy sprawl. "Not going to dance at my wedding?"

Keith hums noncommittally, tapping his thumbs against his stomach, and raises his own eyebrow in turn. "I gave you a speech. What else do you want from me?"

Shiro's laugh is soft, and drowned out by a loud burst of cheer from the other side of the dance floor. The MFE pilots have clustered around Curtis, and it looks like Griffin and Kinkade are trying to lift him up for some kind of tomfoolery.

No wonder Shiro escaped to _this_  side of the venue.

"Your speech was..." Shiro trails off, his gaze rising to the sky, where stars are just beginning to burn through the dying sunlight. "... thank you."

Moved, Keith reaches up and grips Shiro's shoulder. "Of course. I'm so happy for you, Shiro," he adds, voice soft and warm. "You deserve everything."

"You've always thought that, even when I didn't." Shiro shakes his head, leaning forward to brace his hands on his knees. "It means so much to have you here."

"Nothing could have kept me from your wedding," he says, sitting up straight and letting exasperation bleed into his tone. "Non-negotiable."

Shiro laughs again, head dropping. "I hope you know that, no matter what corner of the universe you're in when it happens, I'm coming to yours, too."

The fist around Keith's heart that's been holding it loosely the entire ceremony squeezes tight, suddenly, and its knuckles press in against his lungs. He can't imagine the idea of ever getting married, himself, whether here on Earth or a million light years from it - not to anyone but the man sitting beside him, practically aglow with happiness and someone else's ring on his finger. Maybe in a few years that'll change, he tells himself, and maybe one day he will be the one sending out an invitation and asking Shiro to be his best man when he stands up next to someone else and pledges his life to theirs, but he's doubtful.

(Even death hadn't made him stop loving Shiro, no matter how many times he'd been ripped away from him. This time, though, he's walking away - and he's making himself happy in doing so - so Keith has to have faith. This time it's different for Shiro, so maybe it'll be different for Keith, too.)

"Someone's got to be my best man," he says finally, withdrawing his hand and standing as he does. "Come on. Let's dance."

Shiro's hand is in his before he realizes he's taken it, it looks like, and he asks, "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Keith repeats, firm as the smile on his face. "I don't know what the MFE pilots are doing to your husband, but I'll be nice and just dance before I've got to go, even though you've got awful moves."

Shiro's steps stutter on their way to the floor, and he asks, "You have to go?"

He doesn't, not really - not yet. He could probably stay out the night and help clean up and that had been his plan, in the beginning, but he's not so sure he can do that anymore. It's probably a little bit awful of him, but he supposes everyone has their limit, and this conversation - this impending dance - might just be it.

"Yeah." The song bleeds into another one, slower than the previous, and Keith closes his eyes for a second. Of course. He moves in closer, settling his hands in place as Shiro does the same, and they begin to move slowly. "Sorry. I think Lance is going to be here to close it out, though, and Hunk too."

"No, I understand." Shiro's smile is back, and they pass by Rizavi and Veronica, dancing much closer than Keith and Shiro are. "I"m so proud of what you're doing. I don't want to keep you from changing the world."

There's an almost wistful quality to his voice, Keith thinks, or maybe he's imagining it. When he'd first decided to rejoin the Blade and help give it new purpose, he'd sort of imagined that he'd do it with Shiro by his side. It hadn't been anything concrete, of course, more just the inevitable conclusion that anything he did - anywhere he went - Shiro would be part of his life. That hasn't changed, really, because he and Shiro are still friends and Shiro is still arguably the most important person in his life, but there's a distance there, now. Has been for a year or longer, if he's honest with himself, and maybe that's for the best, too. 

When he'd been younger, Keith hadn't necessarily wanted to go to the stars. He'd just wanted to _go_ , to be anywhere but where he was. He'd made the stars his dream because of the man moving in time to the music with him now, but even without Shiro, his dreams still stretch out into the inky black. He can be grateful for that, both to the man who inspired him and to the time he's had to grow into someone who finally knows how to let go of something without losing it, but it's a bittersweet gratitude. 

They turn to avoid another couple, the move bringing them a little closer, and the smell of Shiro's cologne blankets his senses for just a moment. He blinks through it, and puts a little more space between them. "I'll send you postcards."

Shiro grins at him, and as the song winds down to an end, he steps back. There's something hanging in the air between them, unsaid but bearing down heavy. He opens his mouth, and Shiro does, too, but before either of them can say anything, Lance slides in smoothly between them.

"My turn," he says, grinning and extending a hand to Shiro. Keith lifts both of his and steps back, letting the moment fall away, and he sees something a little too knowing flicker across Lance's face before he looks away.

"Of course," Shiro says, and then, to Keith, "Wait, are you leaving?"

"Yeah," he says, voice a little rough. "Congratulations, Shiro. I'll - I'll see you around."

Before it becomes any more unbearable, Keith turns and strides quickly away, cement giving way to grass as he eats up the ground. He knows he's being rude, but the tightness in his chest is just getting worse and worse, and if he stays any longer - talks to Shiro any longer, feeling like this - it's going to be obvious. Maybe not to anyone else, but to his best friend? It'll be written on his face like the stars in the sky, and he's not going to let that happen.

He's not going to be a smear on the happiest day in Shiro's life, because that's not what you do to people you love, and if there's one thing that's as true today as it was yesterday, as it will be tomorrow?

Keith loves Shiro.

Because he does, he's going to have to let him go.


	2. i believe (that it's okay to not be okay)

Life goes on even when you're walking wounded, and Keith's never been the kind of person to let something like an injury slow him down.

It's not that bad, really; he still has Shiro in his life and he's happy for that, and he has work - good work, fulfilling work - to keep him going. Once he gets off planet he can breathe again; once the stars are the backdrop to his days and evenings alike, the pressure in his chest is recedes and it isn't even difficult to throw himself back into his mission and enjoy it. It helps that he has a good crew and no shortage of things that need to be done. Keith's always been a doer, and there isn't much room to be lonely when he's so busy and surrounded by so many people.

Sometimes, too many people. He looks forward to his video calls with his friends more than he can say because he gets to hole himself up in his quarters and block out an hour or two for nothing but a little one-on-one interaction for once. Hunk likes to cook and is happy enough to just talk and let Keith relax, listening to his voice and laughing along to the crazy kitchen stories he has. His and Pidge's schedules don't match up all that often, but he consults her fairly regularly when there's a tech issue for the Marmora, which works better for both of them anyway. He still can't believe that Lance is living on a farm with his family, but given the way their last few calls have gone, he's getting restless. Keith's been meaning to offer him a space on his ship next time he's back on Earth, actually; he thinks Lance would be good at this, and that he could use a little time away, himself.

Shiro is - great, always. Sometimes Curtis is around and Keith chats with him, too, and the more he gets to know him the more he likes him. Usually Curtis gives them privacy and Shiro catches him up on what's happening at the Garrison, and Keith tells mildly exaggerated stories of the places he's been and the things he's seen. He wouldn't say that their friendship has been strained, exactly, since the first time they went back to Earth, but there's been a necessary emotional distance that is becoming easier to stomach the further the physical distance stretches. There's also the added benefit of time soothing some of the ache of his unrequited feelings, softening them down into something manageable enough that he can tuck them away and ignore them for the most part.

It's not an ideal solution, but it's the best he has for now, and the theory is that it'll only get easier with time. It helps knowing that Shiro and Curtis are good together, even as it hurts, so... there's that.

He glances at the clock in the corner of his screen, watching the time roll over onto the hour. Prompt as ever, there's an incoming call request moments later, and it loosens a smile onto his face as he accepts and the familiar shape of his best friend fills the screen.

"Keith," Shiro says happily, fiddling a little with his camera before sitting back. "That was quick."

"I was waiting for you," he says simply, reaching up to scratch the base of his neck. His hair is loose today and it itches to be put up. "And hiding from my crew, before you ask. We just got off planet and I'm talked out for the next week."

Shiro laughs, the sound a little tinny coming through his speakers, and crosses his arms. His ring glints briefly in the light, and Keith ignores it. "Diplomacy is the worst part of diplomatic missions."

Leaning forward, Keith pillows his cheek on his fist and rolls his eyes. "I'm gonna bring Lance with me next time. He actually _likes_ talking people's ears off."

"That'll be good for him, I think." Shiro hums speculatively. "He's been over a few times for dinner, and I get the feeling he wants back out there."

Keith wants to ask if Shiro does, too, but he resists the urge. Better than anyone else, he knows all that Shiro has been through, and he understands why that would make him want to keep his feet rooted firmly on Earth's ground. He may not be the captain of the Atlas anymore, and he doesn't know much about Curtis yet, but he doesn't get the impression that he wants to do a lot of interstellar travel. It'd be weird to go somewhere without his spouse, and anyway, part of this new chapter of Shiro's life - so he's been told - is putting down roots and settling down.

 _I gave you my wings_ , he'd joked to Keith, and it had rang far truer than Keith wanted to admit at the time.

A door opens and closes in the background, and he hears Curtis and Shiro exchange greetings, and has one tossed in for him. He smiles and returns it, and Curtis waves on his way past, carrying an armload of groceries.

"I'll probably be back on Earth in a few weeks," Keith says, watching Shiro's face light up at the news. "Let me know if you guys want to do something."

"Of course we do." Shiro leans off screen for a moment, reaching for a calendar, and Keith smiles fondly. All the technology they have at their fingertips, and Shiro still writes things down.

"Just let me know when you're going to get in. You'll have to spend a little time at the Garrison though," Shiro adds teasingly. "I get in trouble if you stop by and nobody else finds out about it until you're gone again."

"Better you than me." There's a knock on Keith's door, and he looks up, frowning. "Hang on, Shiro. What is it?"

A head full of dark, curly hair pops in. "Keith! We're being hailed by an unknown craft. Need you on the bridge."

He's barely five minutes in to his call with Shiro, but it can't be helped. "Sorry," he says, already standing. "I'll see you soon, okay? I'll send you a message."

"All right." There's disappointment in Shiro's face, but it's gone quickly. "Be safe."

"Always am," Keith replies, closing the connection and heading out of his room.

 

* * *

 

It's always a little strange to come back to Earth, but each time he does, he feels a little more at home than the last time. It's odd, considering most of what tethers him to his family exists out in space as well, but there's no denying that Earth will always be his first home, even if he's mostly left it behind by now. His wolf barrels out past his legs joyfully, eating up ground as he runs for the first time in weeks, and Keith laughs when he stops to cut cookies and chase his tail. Even if he being planetside for any extended period of time isn't really for him anymore, he thinks he wouldn't have much of a choice in the matter if he tried to live on a ship indefinitely; he'd just get teleported to the surface of the nearest planet and forced to stay there until the wolf ran out of steam, so he might as well make time for it.

Besides, he does like to come back. He stays with Lance and his family, since it doesn't make any sense to have a place of his own and he's not interested in being on the Garrison base - and to this day, the only kind of coffee he likes is the Cuban espresso that Lance's mom sets in front of him the moment he arrives, without fail.

"Are you done, boy?" He asks, fisting his hands on his hips as he watches the wolf roll onto his back in bliss, paws stuck up in the air. "You can't play dead to avoid a conversation. I've tried it, and it doesn't work."

"Why does that not surprise me, like, at all?"  
  
Keith's head whips around, a smile already in place, as Lance saunters over. He's wearing overalls and a straw hat, which Keith knows is a hundred percent because he asked one time what farmers even wear, and he wishes he didn't find that endearing. "Hey, Lance."  
  
Flinging an arm around Keith's shoulders, Lance pulls him into a hug and thumps his back solidly. "Good to see you, man. Hey, um, quick question," he adds, eyes growing wide as the wolf gets to his feet and shakes grass from his fur. "What are you _feeding_ Kosmo? He's twice the size he was last time I saw him!"  
  
Keith scrutinizes the wolf a moment, trying to decide how much Lance is exaggerating, and then shrugs. "I actually don't know how big he'll get. As far as I know, he's still growing." He pauses. "And his name still isn't Kosmo."  
  
"As far as _you_ know," Lance returns airily, releasing Keith to squat down and give the wolf a brisk rub. "Who's a good boy? You are! You're the best boy! You'd be an even better boy if you zapped Keith home sometimes when he's not expecting it!"  
  
"Hey," he warns, as the wolf's tongue lolls out of the side of his mouth, eyes brightening with interest. "Don't put ideas in his head."  
  
Lance cranes his neck to frown thoughtfully at Keith, and then he straightens, brushing his hands off before clapping them together. "Okay! So: tonight, we're getting together and going to the Silver Star for drinks. You probably don't have anything to wear, so you're going to let me dress you, which is probably the nicest thing I could ever do for you. Hope you got your beauty sleep on the way down, buddy, because everyone's excited to see you."  
  
The idea of spending hour at a bar drinking (when he doesn't even like to drink to begin with) makes him groan, tipping his head back. His braid tickles between his shoulder blades. "Lance, no."  
  
"Lance, yes," he croons, hooking his arm with Keith's and tugging.  
  
Keith allows himself to be led, a half-smile on his face that speaks much more to his fondness for his friend than any desire to go out and make merry. Parties and the like have never been Keith's scene, and even at his most maudlin, he'd never wanted to drown his sorrows in a bar. The idea of people getting together to celebrate him being back on Earth, being the focus of that much attention and pulled in that many directions, makes him want to turn right back around and board his ship. There's surely a planet somewhere that needs the Marmora to extend a hand, right? He can be busy elsewhere, right?  
  
But even as he thinks of suggesting it, he glances to his side and catches Lance's profile, the firm smile on his face that has never quite seemed to reach his eyes since Allura died, and he tells himself: _you'll do this for your friends, not for yourself._  
  
It's been a long time since he saw all of them, anyway. Not since Shiro's wedding. Being the one who is gone most often, furthest from them all, he supposes a little discomfort isn't too heavy a price to pay.  
  
Still, he sighs. "At least let me shower first."  
  
"Dude, obviously. You smell like recycled air."  
  
Keith kicks at his ankle, the wolf barks, and something that's been loose for months resettles in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi to me (and write with me!) on my keith rp blog @ [thesizeofthefight](http://thesizeofthefight.tumblr.com) or my personal @ [doctorplum](http://doctorplum.tumblr.com). thanks for reading!


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